Robert Ludlum - The Parcifal Mosaic.txt

by The Parcifal Mosaic [lit]

  lower-level attach6, who nodded. A female announcer~s voice came from the

  speaker: "We understand that a telephone call has been received by the

  United States delegation, quite possibly from the Secretary of State, who

  might care to have his comments registered for Ibn Kashants most laudatory

  comments."

  Bradford pressed the forward button again, and again, and once again. The

  address was over; many delegations rose in an ovation. Arthur Pierce had

  not returned to his chair.

  Thurs. Ian. 1 10:43 A. The welcoming of the new year by the president of

  the Security Council. Pierce was not at the American desk. In his place was

  the man-presumably, Franklyn Carpenter-who had been seated behind the

  ambassador; he was beside him now, a sheaf of papers in his hands.

  FK fam 2 4:10 P. A provocative speech by the P.R.C. delegate, necessitating

  the use of translation earphones. Pierce was not at the American desk.

  Mon. Ian. 5 11:43 A. Arthur Pierce was absent.

  Mon. Ian. 5 2:16 P. Arthur Pierce was absent.

  Mom Ian. 5 4:45 P. Arthur Pierce was in his chair, shakIng his head in

  response to comments by the ambassador from Yemen.

  Bradford turned off the videotape and looked at the manila envelope

  containing photographs of the New Year~'s Eve reception. He did not really

  need them; he knew the undersecretary of the American delegation would

  appear in none.

  THE PARsi7AL MosAic495

  He had been at the Costa Brava.

  There was a final check, and with computer scanners it would take less than

  a minute. Bradford reached for his phone; he asked for transport backlog

  information, made his request and waited, rubbing his eyes, aware that a

  tremble had developed in his breathing. Forty-seven seconds later the reply

  came: "On Tuesday, December thirtieth, there were five flights out of New

  York to Madrid. Ten o'clock, twelve, one-fifteen, two-thirty and

  five-ten.... On Monday, January fifth, Spanish time, there were four

  flights from Barcelona routed through Madrid, starting at seven-thirty,

  A.M., arrival Kennedy Airport, E.S.T., twelve-twenty-one; nine-fifteen,

  A.M., arrival Kennedy, E.S.T., three o'clock-2'

  "Thank you," said Bradford, interrupting. "I have what I need."

  He did. Pierce had taken the 5: 10 Tuesday flight to Madrid, and had

  returned on the 9:15 Monday flight from Barcelona, permitting him to appear

  at the United Nations by 4:45, Eastern Standard Time. Somewhere in the

  manifests there would be a passenger whose name on a passport would in no

  way correspond to that of the undersecretary of the delegation.

  Bradford pivoted in his chair, breathing deeply, staring out the large

  window at the tree-lined streets of Washington below. It was time to go out

  into one of those streets and find another telephone booth. Havelock had to

  know. He got up and walked around his desk toward his jacket and overcoat,

  both draped carelessly over a straight-backed chair against the wall.

  The door opened without a knock, and the undersecretary of State. froze,

  his every muscle paralyzed. Standing there, closing the door and leaning

  against the frame, was another undersecretary of State, a shock of white

  streaking through his dark hair. It was Pierce. He stood erect, his eyes

  level, cold, somehow weary, his voice flat as he said, "You look exhausted,

  Emory. You're also inexperienced. Exhaustion and inexperience are a bad

  combination; together they cause lapses. When you ask questions of

  subordinates, you should remember to demand confidentiality. That young

  man, the one who took Carpenter's place, was really quite excited this

  morning."

  496 RoBFRT LunLum

  "You killed Carpenter," whispered Bradford, finding a part of his voice.

  "He didn~t resign, you killed him."

  He was in great emotional pain."

  "Oh, Chrkt ... His wife and children, you did that, tool-

  "YOU have to plan, create circum tances, foster need--dePendence. You can

  accept that, can't you? Good Lord, in the old days you never gave it a

  thought. And how many did you kM? Before your celebrated conversion, that

  is. I was out there, Emory. I saw what you did."

  "But you were there-"

  "Hating every minute of it. Sickened by the waste, the body Counts-on both

  sides-and the lies. Always the lies, out of Saigon and Washington. It was

  the slaughter of children, yours and theirs."

  "Why YOU? There's nothing anywhere to explainl Why you?"

  "Because it's what I was meant to do. We!re on different sides, Emory, and

  I believe in mine far more than you beheve in yours. That's understandable;

  you've seen what ifs like here, and you can~t do anything about it. I can

  and I will. There's a better way for this world than yours. Well bring it

  about."

  "How? By blowing it up? By plunging us all into a nuclear war that was

  never meant to bel"

  Pierce stood motionless, his eyes boring into Bradfor&s. "Ies true, then,"

  he said quietly. "They did it."

  '-fou didnI know ... Oh, my Godl-

  "DonI blame yourself, we were close. We were told-I was told-that he was

  going mad, that he was creating a strategy so intolerable the world would

  be revolted, the United States would never be trusted again. When it was

  completed, and the documents were in our hands, we would have the ammu-

  nition to dictate or destroy, the option would be ours-in either case your

  system would be finished, wiped from the face of the earth you've raped.-

  "You~re so wrong ... so misguided." Bradfor&s voice was a whisper. "Great

  n-dstakes, yes] Massive errors of judgment~ Yesl . . . But we face them. At

  the end we always face themi"

  Only when you're caught. Because you haven7t the courage to fail, and

  without that you can~t win."

  THE PAPSWAL MOSAic497

  "You think suppression!s the answer?" roared Bradford. "You think because

  you silence people they woet be heard?"

  "Not where it matters; thaes the practical answer. You!ve never understood

  us, anyway. You read our books but you don't grasp their meaning; you even

  choose to overlook specifies. Marx said it, Lenin reconfirmed it; but you

  di(Wt listen. Our system is in constant transition, phases to be passed

  through until change isn't needed any longer. One day our freedoms will be

  complete, not like yours. Not bollow."

  You7re spoon-fedl No change? People have to cbange. Every dayl According to

  the weather, to birth, to death ... to needsl You caet turn them mtD

  automatons; they won't stand for itl Tbaes what you canI understand. Yoere

  the ones who are afraid of failure. You woet let anybody argue with youl"

  "Not those who would undo more than sixty years of hope, of progress. Our

  great scientists, the doctors, the engineers

  . the vast majority of their parents weren!t able to read."

  'So you taught the children and banned the booksl"

  "I thought you were better than that." Pierce took several steps forward,

  away from the door. "You can7t find him, can you? He delivered his nuclear

  blueprints, then went underground. You doet know whom hes shown them to, or

  sold them to. Ybere
in panic."

  "You caZt find him, either. You lost him."

  "But we know who he is. we!ve studied his habits, his needs, his talents.

  Like all men with outstanding minds, he's complicated but predictable. We

  '11 find him. We know what to look for, you doet."

  "He defected from you, didn7t he?"

  A temporary condition. His quarrel was with the bureaucracy, with

  unimaginative superiors, not the objectives of the state. When he came to

  me, I could have taken him, but I chose not to; he offered me too high a

  price. 'You see, he believes In us, not you--certainly not you, neveryou.

  His grandfather was a tenant serf on the lands of Prince Voroshin. He was

  hanged by that grand nobleman for stealing a wild boar in winter to feed

  his family. He woet turn on us."

  "Who's 'us'? Moscow doeset acknowledge you, we've learned that much through

  Costa Brava. The KGB had nothing to do with Costa Brava; it was never

  sanctioned."

  498 RoBERT LUDLUM

  'Not by anyone you deal with. ney're old and tired; they accommodate.

  They've lost sight of our prondse-our destiny, if you like. We haven't."

  Pierce looked at the television set and the video recorder beneath it, then

  at the box on Bradford!s desk. "A network film library-or is it archives?

  Images recorded, so they can be studied to settle disputes, or investigate

  death. Very good, Emory." The mole glanced up. "Or we could add a third d.

  Disappearance. Yes, those would tell you; that feeble excuse for a diplomat

  we call an ambassador certainly couldn't. Hed check his records, find that

  rd given him the best arguments for those sessions, and swear I was there.

  It might amuse you to know that I frequently talk with my true associates

  in the lounge and tell them to go easy on him, let him win a few. He was

  heaven-sent for me."

  "It doesn't amuse me."

  Pierce approached Bradford, standing directly in front of him. "Havlf6ek's

  come back, hasn't he?"

  "WhoP"

  "We prefer his' real name. Mikhail Havlf6ek, son of VAclav, an enemy of the

  state, and named for a grandfather from Rovno, across the Carpathians.

  Mikhail is a Russian name, you know. Not Czech. On the other hand, you

  probably doWt know that; you put such little emphasis on heritage. Under

  different circumstances, he might be standing where I am at this moment.

  He's a talented man; I'm sorry he was so misguided. Hes here, isrA he?"

  'I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Oh, come on, Emory. That outrageous newspaper story, that very opaque

  whitewash done so very badly out of State in response to the killing on

  Morningside Heights. That old Jew knew something, didn't he? And the

  pathological Havlf6ek shot his head off finding out what it was. Then you

  covered for him because he'd found you out, and no doubt found the girl as

  well. You need him now; he could blow you apart. You made your

  accommodation with him. You told him the truth, you had to. It all goes

  back to the Costa Brava, doesn't it?"

  'You go back to the Costa Braval"

  "Certainly. We were on our way to the total compromise of one of the most

  powerful men in the Western world. We wanted to make sure it was done

  right. You didn1 have the stomach for it. We dicL"

  THE PARSIFAL MOSAIc499

  'But you didn7t know why. You still doWtl"

  "It never mattered, can't you see that? He was going 111-sane. You, with

  your extraordinary expectations, were driving him insane; he was a gifted

  man doing the work of twenty. The Georgian syndrome, Emory. Stalin was a

  'babbling idiot when he was killed. All we had to do with Matthias was fuel

  his fantasies, gratify his every whim, grievance and suspidon-encourage his

  madness. Because that madness compromised this country into its own

  madness."

  rhere!s no compromise now. Only annihilation. Extincflon."

  Pierce nodded his head slowly. "There's the risk, of course, but one cadt

  be afraid to fail."

  "Now yodre the one who's insanel"

  "Not at all. The extinction would be yours, the annihilation yours. That

  court of world opinion you whiningly appeal to so frequently would see to

  it. And right now' an that matters is that we find the man who

  single-handedly ushered Anton Matthias into his disintegration, and we want

  those documents. Don7t worry about Havlf6ek; you were going to put

  hfin'beyond salvage' 'we weren't."

  "You did. You didl You put him beyond salvage.-

  "At the time it was right to order his execution. It isn7t now. Now he'll

  help us. I wasn't joking before; he's one of the most talented men you~ve

  ever fielded, a very accomplished hunter. With his expertise and what we

  know, we'll find the man wholl bring this government to its knees."

  "rve told people who you arel" whispered Bradford. 'What you arel"

  "rd have been followed at the airport --- especially the air

  port-and I wasn7t. You didn7t tell anyone because you didn!t

  know until a few minutes ago. rin far too important a figure

  for such speculations from a man like you. Yoleve made too

  many mistakes; you can't afford any more. This city doesn!t

  like you, Mr. Undersecretary."

  "Havelock will kill you on sight."

  "I'm sure he would if he could see us, but that!s his problem, isn't it. We

  know Havlf6ek; he doesn't know us, he doesnI know me. That puts him at

  quite a disadvantage. We'll just watch him; ies all we have to do."

  "Youll never find hinil" Bradford lurched to his left, instantly blocked by

  Pierce, who shoved hun against the wall.

  500 RonErm LuDLum

  "Don't, Emory. You're tired and very weak. Before you could raise your

  voice you'd be dead. As for finding him, how many safe houses are there?

  Steriles One through Seventeen? And who wouldnt tell a man like me-a man

  involved with numerous diplomatic 'defectfons-wbieb ones are available? Ive

  brought in several enviable catcbes--or presumed catches." Pierce took

  several steps, once again standing in front of Bradford. "Now, dodt die.

  Tell me. Where is this catastrophic document? I assume it's a photostat.

  The original Is held over your head, a nuclear sword hanging by a very thin

  thread."

  "Where you could never find it."

  "I believe you," said the traveler. "But you couR*

  "Mere's no way ... could or would."

  "Unfortunately, I believe that, too."

  There was a brief snapping sound as Pierce suddenly thrust out his right

  hand, gripping Bradford's bare arm, pressing his palm into the flesh. With

  his left, the mole simultaneously reached up and clamped his fingers over

  Bradford's mouth, twisting the undersecretarys body, arching him to the

  side. In seconds, Bradford's eyes widened, then closed as the choking

  sounds from his throat were muted. He collapsed to the floor as Pierce

  withdrew the palmed needle. The mole raced behind the desk and picked up

  the tape container; beneath it was a note on corporate stationery. He

  reached for the telephone, pressed the outside-line button and dialed.

  'Federal Bureau of Investigation, New York Office," a voice answered.

  "Internal Security, please. Fi
eld Agent Abrams~'

  "Abrams," said a male voice seconds later.

  . Your travels went well, I hope."

  'A smooth flight" was the reply. "Go ahead."

  "There's a network executive," continued Pierce, reading the note~ "An R.B.

  Denning at the Trans American News Division. He supplied library footage to

  the wrong man at State, an unbalanced man named Bradford, whose motives

  were offensive to the interests of the Urdted States government. The tapes

  were destroyed by Bradford in a rage, but for the good of Trans Am's news

  department-tbe entire company, as well, of course-Denning's officfAy

  advised to say nothing. The Depart3nent of State feels ies mandatory to

  TkE PAwi7AL MosAic501

  contain the embarrassment, et cetera, et cetera. This is a very green

  light."

  "I'll reach him right away even if he's into his second martini."

  "You could add that State might be reluctant to deal with Trans Am in the

  future, insofar as they delivered company materials without checking the

  source of the request through proper channels. However, if everyone

  cooperates for the good of the country-"

  "The picture vAll be clear," interrupted the pa-rainyatchik from New York.

  "IT get on it."

  Pierce hung up, walked to the television set, and carefully inoved it back

  against the wall. He would have the video recorder taken away to another

  office. There would be no trace of the newsreel tapes or any way to trace

  them.

  There was no prolonged, agonized scream, no cry of protest against offending

  gods or mortals-only the sound of shattering glass in the huge window as a

  body plummeted from the seventh floor of the State Department.

  It was said by those who had seen him that morning that it was the way he

  had to ga-in a moment of frenzy, of total despair, wanting it over with,

  not wanting to think any longer. The pressures had become overwhelming; be

  had never really recovered from those soul-searching days of the late

  sixties, everyone knew that. He was a man whose time had come and gone, and

  be had never reasoned out the role he had played in its arrival and

  departure. Substance had eluded him; at the end he was a voice in the

  shadows, a voice disturbing to many, but dismissed by many others because

  he couldn't do anything.